


On the First Day of Hanukkah

by MJ (mjr91)



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #HanniHolidays, Domestic Fluff, Hanukkah, Humor, M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 21:40:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8770357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mjr91/pseuds/MJ
Summary: Hannibal invites Will over to a small dinner party.  What's so odd about that?





	

**Author's Note:**

> While I'm not in any of the groups, the #hanniholidays theme was too interesting not to join in. And since we are dealing with a very different show, and very different people in it, why not a different take on the holiday season for it? There's more than one holiday this time of year!

He’d been invited over for dinner. It was early December, part of that blank, insane-shopping period just after Thanksgiving and not quite before Christmas, and so he wasn’t expecting anything particularly festive. When he was let in, he saw the not-unexpected combination of shirtsleeves, apron, and slightly falling hair, but when he entered Hannibal’s kitchen, trailing behind his host, Will was surprised to see white china platters with gold edging and some light blue as well, holding mounds of golden fritters of various kinds.

“What?”

“Those,” Hannibal said, pointing with a spatula, “are sufganiyot. They’re essentially small doughnuts. It’s customary to fill them with jam. In fact,” he added, pointing next to them, “that’s a squeeze bottle full of raspberry jam. Please fill the sufganiyot on that platter.” He returned to a copper skillet in which he flipped what looked vaguely like hash browns.

“Are those potato pancakes?”

“Of course.” He moved one to a plate lined with paper towels. “In Lithuania they are called blynai. Not to be confused with Russian blini.”

“Naturally,” Will trailed. 

“I made perch cakes earlier today, and if you are able to smell it over the frying, I have a brisket resting in the oven.” The pan was cleared and more potato cakes were spooned into it.

“Perch? Brisket? Potato pancakes?”

“Your friend, Ms. Katz, is also coming over for dinner, as are Mr. Zeller and Alana. I chose to create a menu that was appropriate for the holiday, as four of us are sharing it.”

Will boggled. “Holiday?”

Hannibal stopped cooking and stared directly at Will. “I realize that you are from the South, but surely almost all of America is familiar with Hanukkah.”

Will boggled to the point of his eyebrows nearly achieving liftoff from his body. “Hanukkah? Well, yeah, but…”

“There are, or once were, a great many Jews in Lithuania, Will,” Hannibal explained. “My mother was Jewish. As she was married to my father, who was not, and as she was not fond of public observance, no one realized it. This is her recipe,” he continued, flipping potato pancakes again, “for what are commonly called latkes here. As neither Ms. Katz or Mr. Zeller or I actually eat kosher food, I will be serving sour cream as well as applesauce for them. Alana’s family apparently keeps kosher, but she does not.”

Will barely processed the discussion of kosher food, as he was so busy processing another statement that his eyebrows were preparing to detach from his face after countdown. “Your mother – you’re Jewish? Count Hannibal Lecter the Eighth is Jewish?”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow of his own as he continued frying. “Will, could you continue filling the sufganiyot? And are you suggesting that there is a problem with my being Jewish? I rarely mention it, as religion is not a particularly significant part of my life, but Hanukkah is an amusing holiday and working with a few other Jews right now makes it possible for me to arrange a small party for the event. I am hardly doing this for eight days in a row.”

“I wouldn’t expect… no, of course there’s nothing wrong with your being Jewish; it’s just that I never realized…”

“You really should have,” Hannibal observed, flipping a latke on the spatula and watching it twirl as he caught it again. “After all – no, that’s true… most Americans wouldn’t notice, even you. Though you've certainly had ample opportunity.”

Will squeezed raspberry jam into one of the tiny doughnuts. “Notice what?”

“In most European countries, Will, most men aren’t circumcised.”

The doughnut landed on the floor. “Oh!”

“Indeed. Please pick that up before you step in it, thank you.”


End file.
